


Bus Stop

by vivilove



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff, Strangers to Lovers, rainy day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-20
Updated: 2017-03-20
Packaged: 2018-10-08 05:46:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10379811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivilove/pseuds/vivilove
Summary: She was late for the bus again and would have to catch the later one...but the handsome stranger was there waiting as well.  Perhaps she didn't mind missing the 8:10 after all.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just a drabble to celebrate 2000 Jonsa fics on Archive!
> 
> Title and lyrics from 'Bus Stop' by The Hollies. Heard this oldie at lunch yesterday and thought it'd be cute for a Jonsa fic.

_Bus stop, wet day_

_She’s there, I say_

_Please share my umbrella._

_Bus stops, bus goes_

_She stays, love grows,_

_Under my umbrella._

 

Sansa had arrived too late for the 8:10 bus yet again. _Running in heels isn’t easy_. She ran a hand through her long, auburn locks and huffed out her aggravation. _But perhaps I’m_ _not too aggravated_ , she thought as she saw the handsome man from down the street sitting at the stop waiting for the 8:35. _Did you really miss the 8:10 or were you hoping_ _he’d be here again?_

She glanced at him sitting on the bench reading his paper. She thought his name might be Jon. She’d overhead him answering his phone once. _‘This is Jon.’_ She’s almost positive that’s what he’d said. She’d been a bit distracted by his deep and husky voice though.

He was wearing khaki trousers, loafers, a white button-up shirt with a navy sweater vest today. His hair was pulled back this morning. She liked it down when his curly, dark hair hung loose but she thought he looked quite handsome this way as well. He had a neatly kept beard and moustache. His wireframe glasses and worn, leather satchel only completed the look. _Professor…I’d bet a week’s pay on it._

He was half hidden behind his morning journal. _A newspaper…how old-fashioned_ , she smiled to herself as she pulled out her phone.

There was an ominous rumble of thunder and the May morning was overcast. The gray skies seemed to make the color of the flowers stand out even more than the sunshine.

Sansa sat down primly on the far side of the bench and smoothed out her plaid skirt and buttoned up her red rain slicker that Margaery said looked too childish for a woman of twenty-five. But the forecast had called for rain and Sansa, being a bit drawn to superstitious beliefs like fate and luck, believed that if she wore her red rain coat then surely it would not presume to actually rain.

“Good morning,” he murmured lowering his paper and glancing at her with a shy smile before his eyes darted to her ankles.

She’d worn her tan colored heels that morning and sheer hose. He liked seeing her legs any morning but for some reason he found the tan colored heels and sheer hose were his favorites on her creamy white legs that went on and on. He liked her red rain slicker, too. It went well with her lovely, pale face and red hair. It reminded him of Little Red Riding Hood a bit and he felt a bit wolfish suddenly.

“Good morning,” she chirped in that bright fashion she had that made him smile a bit wider.

They didn’t know one another. Good mornings were usually the extent of their conversation on the mornings she caught the later bus with him. She had no way of knowing that he’d started standing at the corner waiting for the 8:10 bus to arrive and would watch her climb aboard. And she certainly didn’t know how thrilled he was on those mornings when she missed the earlier bus and sat with him on the bench to wait for the 8:35. _‘I swear, I’m not a stalker,_ ’ he pictured telling her if she ever figured him out.

She carried a small purse and a tablet, nothing else. He thought she must work in some sort of office but where and in what capacity, he wasn’t certain. He’d have liked to find out. He was rather terrible at initiating conversations with beautiful women though and she was absolutely stunning. _Way out of my league_ , he thought.

Lightning split the sky just then and the May morning had gone from overcast and cloudy to suddenly dark and threatening. The thunder crashed and the wind picked up.

Sansa looked up in consternation. _Damn…surely, it won’t rain before the bus arrives_. Her rain slicker was alright for a drizzle but it wouldn’t be much protection from the deluge that was threatening.

The first fat drops began to fall unevenly and Jon reached beside his bag for the large, black umbrella he’d brought to be safe. He stood from the bench and raised it in hopes that perhaps the actual downpour would hold off another fifteen minutes so his shoes wouldn’t be drenched. _Nothing worse than soaked shoes and socks all day_.

The beauty lifted her red hood over her red hair and started to stand as the rain picked up from random, fat drops to a steady pitter-patter.

“Would you care to share my umbrella?” he asked.

“You don’t mind?” she asked with that sweet but deep voice of hers that he found intoxicating.

He smiled and said, “Not at all.”

Sansa ducked beneath the large umbrella as the rain increased steadily. It was splashing on the sidewalk as it smacked the surface and she could feel it wetting her hose. She didn’t care. _Who can worry over the wet when he is here and so gentlemanly?_ she thought idlily like the romantic she was.

His scent pervaded her senses under the umbrella…a masculine sort of cologne but not at all overpowering. It was light and reminded her of pine and cedar. And there was an essence that was all him and nothing to do with fragrances. Up close like this, she could see how thick and long his eyelashes were surrounding his dark brown eyes. He held the umbrella easily to shelter them both but, as the wind began to blow, Sansa felt the back of her legs getting wet.

“I’ll be soaked from the waist down at this rate,” she said softly.

Jon looked down at her legs and stepped around her. “Here…I’ll try and block the wind and rain for you.” He felt the rain hitting his trousers and didn’t care. _Who cares about the_ _wet day when she is here and so close to me?_ “Better?” he asked.

“Yes…but now you’ll be soaked.”

“It’s alright,” he said quietly, staring into those crystal clear blue eyes that reminded him of the Caribbean on a sunny day. He inhaled her sweet scent deeply and relished the cocoon the umbrella seemed to create for them. _There is only you and I here_.

Just then a truck sped by spraying them both with water that had puddled along the side of the road already. Jon suppressed the curse that sprang to his lips and chuckled when she did not. She blushed prettily afterwards and glanced at him from beneath her lashes. He heard the loud hum of the bus approaching and the squeal of the brakes as it pulled to a stop.

“Here’s your bus,” she said. She sounded disappointed. He hoped he wasn’t imagining that.

“Isn’t it your bus as well?”

“I don’t want to go in like this. I’m going to have to change.”

“Yes…perhaps I should do that as well.”

“Would you care to walk up with me?” she asked jerking her chin towards her building. “I don’t have any clothes for you but I’ll get you a towel and maybe a cup of coffee…or tea if you prefer.”

“I wouldn’t wish to impose,” he murmured, looking down at her soft, pink lips with just a trace of lipstick on them still and then back up at those blue eyes.

“I wouldn’t consider it an imposition. I’m Sansa,” she said.

“I’m Jon,” he replied as the bus pulled away.

 

**Two hours later…**

The red rain slicker was lying on the floor near the door next to his umbrella and satchel.

There was a trail of clothing from there to the bedroom. Wet shoes…wet socks and pantyhose…a blouse…a sweater vest and button-up shirt…then a plaid skirt and soaked khaki trousers…before finally a lacey white bra and matching panties and a pair of boxers.

“We missed the bus,” he whispered in her ear as he rolled over to be on top of her this time.

Sansa moaned, waiting until he was fully inside of her before responding. He started nibbling at the ear he’d just whispered in and she ran her hands along his muscular arms.

“We missed work as well,” she sighed.

“We called in at least,” he rumbled against her skin before he started kissing her throat and picked up his rhythm again with his hips.

“We did,” she replied, biting her lip as she ran her hands up to card through his hair. The rain was still coming down and the thunder and lightning were still raging. “But it’s really the kind of day that’s only fit for lying in anyway.”

He laughed and kissed her then…and Sansa hoped.

And, as Jon slid his tongue back into her mouth to swallow her cries soon after, he was grateful for the wet day…and he hoped as well.


End file.
